Fleshing Out The Masters
by auntiemaim
Summary: When the Joker's feeling creative, no mere paint and canvas will do. Sensitive minds be warned, things get messy and unpleasant.


So I was reading an article the other day about this fellow down South. Louisiana, I think it was. Anyhoo, he was a plastic surgeon and a bit of an abstract thinker. Quite an interesting chap, if you can believe the printed page. Seems he got himself into a bit of trouble by giving this young man the world's first Cubistic nose.

Now, that's damn genius, wouldn't you agree? But the young man's mother wasn't having it. She went to the police and would you believe, that daring sculptor had his license revoked! What kind of reward for creative thinking is that? It's a damn shame is what it is! People are so boring.

But it got me to thinking... why stop there, eh? Why not try to recreate the works of the greats, not in paint and canvas, but in living tissue and blood? So that's just what I've been doing!

Not to be a copycat, but I thought I'd start out with the Cubist style. And not just on the nose! I studied my Picassos, Braques, and Cezzanes, then went to work. It... didn't work out quite that well. Not at first. Human flesh just doesn't want to adhere to rigid lines, no matter how hard I tried. But then I realized I was being far to literal about it. With the help of a hammer, pliers, and few tubes of Crazy Glue; I manipulated eyes, nose, lips, ears... oh kids... the final result. It was stunning to say the least. And do you think the model appreciated it? Not. At. All! The fool wouldn't stop jibbering! He kept crying his right ear off... of his left cheek.

Next up was that great Post-Impressionist, Van Gogh! Admittedly, this one was quite disappointing. I was going for a Starry Night kind of thing, but I got a bit hack and slash with the details and she just ended up a muddled mess. Bled to death, too.

After that, it was time to pull out the blow torch for a bit of Surrealism. Dali, coming up! Oh, well... flesh might not want to be rigid and cubed, but it sure can melt and it does it beautifully! So beautifully I had to keep her around. I couldn't just leave her lie to rot! Not when I'd spent so much time on her and ended up with such a brilliant result! I took a bit of inspiration from the Bodies Exhibition (go see it, if you can! BRILLIANT!) and whipped up my own special polymer to keep her preserved. Once she's dried, I was thinking of hanging her in the rumpus room.

Riding the wave of triumph I was feeling after the Dali, I thought I'd go for some Abstract Expression and who else could I turn to, but good old Jackson Pollock? Hmm - well - as with the Goghie, I got a bit carried away. It was terribly inspired... at first. But the sniveling little runt just wouldn't stop screaming. It was ear piercing - just this awful, prolonged screeching that went on and on and on. Put me into a frightful rage, I'm afraid. What a mess he was when I finally calmed down. Yick. It took six hours and three different wet vacs to get rid of him.

Right... what came next? Ah, yes! The Kahlo! Good old Frida! She was a real pip! I don't know about all of you, but there's just something about a woman with a crippled leg and a mustache that sets my heart all a-flutter. Ten erector sets, a bit of taxidermy, a handful of arrows, and five hours later and KA-POW! Another masterpiece! My model on this one was a bit hesitant at first, but she seems to be getting used to it finally. Once she stops bleeding and the sutures come out, she's agreed to go on display at Crackopolis! What a trooper, huh kids?

By this time, I was kind of winding down on the whole idea, but there was still one more I wanted to take a whack at. The O'Keefe. Oh... oh kiddies. She's just... phew! I don't even think I can appropriately describe it to you. Let's just say... I brought the model of this one to full flower. If you catch my drift. She's none too pleased about it, the little ingrate. But no matter. She's another one for display at Crackopolis, though she won't be out in the open for the rabble to oggle. Oh, no. It's the V.I.P. sector all the way for my dear little Georgia.

Maybe if you're lucky, I'll take some photos and share the joy.


End file.
